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Always waiting for my turn

As the world turns I often wonder why I stand still
Wanting to jump but grounded against my will
A Supersonic something streaks across the sky
“Can I go now?”  I try, I try, and I know I can fly
I know my medal means I have done it before
I flew, I fought, and I did my best in this war!

I feel for the child, I am sorry for his pain
My friends, my comrades threw bombs last night again
Same world, same mountains, land and sea
Yet all the Generals say is “what will be will be!”
But that’s not right; this child has a choice, a will
He is not inclined to shoot, to bomb and kill.

This child, with jet black hair and eyes of innocent pain
No more than nine years old yet in a war again
I want to save this child to move him from this place
Remembering my child in the terror etched upon his face
Where are his parents? I try and ask with open hand
But he just stares at my rifle, he doesn’t understand.

His tear burns my skin as I wipe it gently away
I feel the guilt of a thousand soldiers on this day
Why did we come here and send death to this town?
What kind of story brought this black curtain down?
As we tear away the future of these children, wives and men
Will they ever have a home and a place to live again?

This town was a legend; many stories were told
Of heroes and villains and beautiful girls and fights for wealth and gold
There were wizards and witches and gene’s and lamps and prisoners locked in a cell.
And magic tales of magic escapes and carpets flying because of a spell
Yet all these memories are now forgotten and left to rot in a grave
As now not even this little child understands the reasons men gave.

And so my tour here comes to an end, I can say goodbye
But looking at this little war child I simply want to cry!
The streaks on his face would look quite cute if I knew they were not tears
As I know these streaks that burn his soul are caused by burning fears
So where his Dad, his Mam and his friend as my shoulder  supports his head?
Thanks to bombs and the reasons man gave he is looking at them,  laying there dead.
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